Hell's Angel
by Paradoqz
Summary: Eternal witch Selene takes a walk through Hell to visit an old... friend


Disclaimer: All recognizable characters in this story belong to Marvel. I'm   
not making any profit from this.   
Special thanks to Redhawk for giving me the idea and the starting point for   
this fic. 

Feedback and flames are welcome.   
*** 

Hell's Angel.   


A tall, slender woman shrugs off her cloak. It is black. In fact, the color   
dominates the room. Upholstery, furniture, materials, clothes -- all is   
black. Usually such would produce a depressing effect but instead this room   
shines with a dark beauty. Much like the lady herself. Her delicate features   
are pensive, as she absently raises a goblet to her lips. The darkly red   
contents of the cup reflect the odd sunrays into a pattern that is as   
intricate as it is fleeting. Finally she sighs and puts the goblet down,   
turning her gaze to her... guest. 

"Oh, stop struggling. It's really quite hopeless, I learned that knot from   
my father a long, long time ago. And besides, while I appreciate a good   
sporting struggle, I'm afraid you're going to have to admit you've lost.   
Oh, do be quiet, child. Your tears are just ruining your complexion. 

Now honestly, what were you _really_ expecting when you accepted my   
invitation to dine this evening? Judging by your actions, you thought you   
could seduce me, tumble me into my own bed, to be yours to take your   
pleasure upon. 

Hardly. Really now, you should have expected no differently. Doesn't   
_anyone_ bother to do any basic intelligence gathering anymore? A pity. If   
you had, you might not be bound here now on my little display rack. 

Oh, it was _power_ you sought, was it? You wanted for me to become your   
teacher share my knowledge? Child, your puny mind could not come anywhere   
near close to holding the amount of information I've merely forgotten, let   
alone what I hold dear. You see, you made a very big mistake. You took me   
for a twenty-something little dabbler in the Black Arts. 

Now you know differently. I'm far, far older than you could possibly   
comprehend. 

You doubt me? Silly child. You really have _no_ idea of what you've tangled   
with, do you? I should just leave you here, like this, for a few decades.   
Give you some time to contemplate your mistakes.   
Maybe then you'll have some respect for your elders. 

Oh, I see now. You're sorry. Well, I'm just overcome with joy at your   
remorse. Thrilled, I am. Oh, stop mumbling child, it's demeaning. And   
besides, that cantrip won't work. Honestly. 

Oh, all right, go ahead and try it. I'm telling you it won't work. You   
claim to have wanted to learn, so there's your first lesson. 

See? It didn't work. I told you it wouldn't. That cantrip depends on there   
being no magical disturbances in the weave, and if you'd bothered to take a   
moment and feel the weave, you'd know that it's a little choppy right now.   
Not very conducive at all to a smooth, steady weaving. 

"What? You can't feel the weave? Cthon save me from amateurs. How do you   
expect to ever really be a sorcerer if you can't even _SEE_ what you're   
working with? 

Yes, I can see the weave. It's the first thing I ever learned. Took me ten   
years and innumerable beatings from the Master of the Art before I could   
even see the roughest, most coarse weaves. At the time, it seemed like an   
eternity. But when you're 16 when you master it, and you started at age 6... 

Oh, don't look so surprised. Once you pass your thousandth year of life, the   
years start to blur together. What's a year when you've lived for centuries,   
anyway? 

Second lesson, child. You've heard stories about how those who practice the   
Black Arts can damn your soul to Hell for all Eternity? You're about to get   
a practical demonstration. But since I won't be using my own soul, and I   
don't happen to have another lying around, I'm forced to use yours. 

Really, now. Of _course_ I have a soul. I can see it. Can't you? Oh, I   
forgot. This Age has produced nothing but barely trained children with _no_   
idea of what they do. I'm surprised they even let you outside without a   
Keeper. 

Stop your blubbering. And that God won't help you. No, He won't either. I   
believe you've violated a few too many of His Commandments to be calling on   
Him. I don't have much traffic with Him and His followers. Insufferable lot,   
the only real good they've done is turned Shem and the Southern Kingdoms   
into a fetid squalling desert filled with barbaric savages who think their   
God of Peace and Love has commanded them to kill each other. 

I'm talking about what you'd call the Middle East, silly boy. It's a   
festering ball of Chaos over there, and if they're not careful, they're   
going to trip over something rather ... unpleasant ... that will probably   
devour both their flesh and their souls. Should be a lot of fun to watch.   
From a distance, of course 

Of course I know what it is. And no, I won't warn them. Live or die by   
their own stupidity, I want no part of it. Besides, the last time I took a   
bunch of unspeakable primitives under my wing and gave them a home, the   
ungrateful wretches tried to kill me for it. 

You know, you've really got a fine form here. Strong, young, quick, and   
reasonably intelligent by the standards of this Age. It's a shame it's going   
into the Pits, but that's just the way it goes. 

Hm? No, nothing so crude. It doesn't become a Lady to be wasteful. My   
stepmother taught me that. She was quite an accomplished courtesan in her   
time. I learned much from her. Pity she decided to cheat me out of my   
inheritance... 

Don't be so impatient, boy. It doesn't become you. Yes, you are indeed going   
to die, how does that that give you any leverage here? Oh all right. I'm   
in such a generous mood today... See? This is really one of the simplest   
pentagrams. The Gate. You don't? Why, I'm positively mortified.   
Flabbergasted. Amazed beyond belief, I am. Fools. Even the Pict shamans,   
could do this. And those savages had trouble writing their own names. 

What did I mean by "wasteful" comment? Oh dear me... It appears I was   
mistaken. You are not the brightest match in the box after all, are you?   
Hmm... Let us see. 

Taunting me is not the wisest course of action in your current position,   
child. It's been some time since I summoned a Spectre, some difficulty is   
to be expected... 

Painful, is it not? Don't worry, remember, what I said. I shall not consume   
all of your soul today... just a portion. Aaaah... exquisite as always, no?   
I realize that you are seeing it for the first time, boy. 'Twas a rhetorical   
question. Watch and marvel,child. 

That was a nice try. A trifle distracting however. If you persist I shall be   
forced to gag you. Hm? No, but you mispronounced 'taashpengo' and that threw   
the whole spell off... I'd imagine someone in the neighborhood shall be most   
surprised finding a gnome in their bed. Well... let us depart." 

The duo makes their way slowly through the rolling mists of the Sheol. Each   
breeze seems to carry a moan of pain. The air itself seems to tell of   
unimaginable sufferings. The woman takes the atmosphere of dread in stride.   
Her spirit form appears hardly changed from her corporeal on,e as she   
gracefully glides through the blood red fog. Her reluctant companion fares   
less well. Eventually the lady addresses the concerns of the youth. 

"Stop your simpering. It's quite irritating. If you are trying to appeal to   
my emotions you are wasting your breath. Besides I'm well aware that by now   
the process is perfectly painless. How? I would know because it was done to   
me, of course... Don't touch that! Do you want to stay in Hell forever?   
Really, such an amateur mistake. Even such as those who call themselves   
Mages today should have taught you better. I do not, in point of fact, care.   
You are quite free to eat that later, I still need you however... for now. 

Please stop shaking, you are simply amusing them and attracting more Damned.   
They quite intangible at this stage of the journey, I assure you. 

Please. Don't make me laugh. This so-called Vishanti school of Mages is just   
so many apprentices full of hot air. Squabbling over scraps from Masters'   
table. Even junior member of the Black Circle would laugh himself silly if   
they tried to match wits with him... 

Of course you don't. Mitra forbid you should learn a bit of the history of   
the craft before meddling with it. You heard of Stygia at least, I presume? 

Of course. I should have known. The victors write the history after all. 

"The second 'evil empire' of the West" indeed. Please. Evil is so   
subjective... Do NOT pet the Gorkh demons! Honestly to look at you it is as   
if you'd never traversed the Underworld before. 

Yes. _Now _ they are very tangible. Didn't you notice when we passed the   
third Circle? Really now. Stop complaining, I assure you will have some of   
your soul left. As I said I know from experience. Who? Why two of the best,   
of course. 

My father and Thoth Amon. It was quite an experience... as you are   
finding out currently. I was, regrettably, much too young to appreciate the   
wonders of the Dark Realm when I visited it the first time. No matter. My   
father wasn't worthy to lick Amon's boots. 

Those were interesting times indeed... No, young man, it is not a Chinese   
curse. 'Tis a Khari one. Of course not. Why would you know of people that   
laid foundation for this... this... so-called civilization. My ancestors   
were, to steal a phrase,'great with knowledge while yours were still   
hide-clad savages... where you are about still.' Yes, MY people. Their   
greatness destroyed by hordes of the unwashed. 

The glory and dark beauty of Khitai,Acheron and Stygia turned to dust. I   
trace my ancestry to Akivasha and Giant Kings, boy, and to Serpent People   
of Valusia. I was born to greatness. I'm Selene of the Nehekba House. 

Blessed by Father Set's dark magic when I was born. Apprenticed to Thoth   
Amon. You sought to learn from me?! Fool. Thrice the fool. 

I saw civilizations rise and fall. I saw the magics of Elder Gods fritter   
away forgotten and this Vishanti abomination take their place. I saw   
great wizards of old disappear one by one. Defeated by savages and lucky   
fools. Like this... Merlin. Great Mage indeed... Finding a stone of power   
by chance. Pathetic. 

You think I'm ranting, boy? You think me senile? Wait... wait and watch and   
learn. We are here." 

The ancient man appearing before them doesn't seem to be very happy upon   
being "summoned." Shifting uncomfortably in the confines of the pentagram,   
he sniffs disdainfully at the delicate artwork. The strength of the mind,   
shining through his eyes, belies the man's decrepit appearance. Apparently   
his hearing is also quite efficient, as the query that boy sends, more or   
less, to himself or whatever God might be listening, diverts the man   
attention to his visitors. 

"Why are you here, boy? Why it's simple, of course. Your leash holder wants   
to gloat. Isn't that right, Selene? Please. Spare me. Wounded innocence   
looks as innocuous on you as modesty on me. We know each other too well to   
waste time on little tricks. What, boy? You are surprised that someone has   
the temerity to speak so to "Powerful Sorceress"? Hah... I am in Hell.   
What's more I am Kulan Gath of the Black Ring. I do as I wish. 

Ah, I thought so. I knew you would throw that in my face again, Selene.   
Well...you were wrong. Overconfidence, did not after all, proved to be the   
death of me. I am quite alive. Yes. But in Hell. Yes, indeed I would say   
that it is a significant "but." See, boy? I was correct. She came to gloat.   
You were always a hateful little thing, Selene. Even when we served Thoth   
Amon. 

Of course not. Of course, not you. Spare me. You can play with semantics on   
days on end but we both now what our status was. Do we not? Hmm... Yes, I   
remember. You were forever whining about you ancestry. Forever complaining   
about being denied membership in the Black Ring because you were a woman. I   
enjoyed that immensely, I must admit. 

You had it all! Family, wealth, power, status. But no.... You had to have   
the Art, too. I had to claw my way from the gutters of Sukhmet. Beg and   
fight my way into the Temple apprenticeship. When you came to Kheshatta, I   
was already there for five years! Five years in the City of Magicians! I   
alone survived the Caverns of Kesherik. I was the best. And yet I was denied   
admittance into Khemi. The priestly capital of Stygia was too good for the   
street rat from Sukhmet... but not for the scion of Nehekba. You went on to   
study with the Black Robes and I had to listen to crazed ravings of the   
madmen and second raters. But in the end I was welcomed into the Black Ring   
and you were turned away. 

Hahahahaha. I remember your face, Selene. Ohhh, I do indeed. The fact that   
you were more than worthy, made it all the more delicious... Ahhhh, yes. It   
was my time then... My time. Until they exiled me. Fools! How dared they!   
"Dabbling with the dark forces"! We were Stygians, the last spark of   
civilization among the primitives and barbarians. 

Heirs of the Thurians and the Khari! And they bound us by morals! The Black   
Ring... the ones who were supposed to be the crFme of the nation. Blind   
fools. 

No, Selene, I was no more sorry to see Amon go, than you were. That is the way   
of things. Weak give the way to the strong. I was.... somewhat disappointed   
that he lost to some Cimmerian of all things. Ah well, such is life. As   
Villagro whom he cast into the Abyss, he himself was cast. 

Yes. On that we do agree. It was the Golden Age. Until the Cataclysm. 

I longed for the temples of Stygia, but still... I remember fondly my time   
wandering the world. I hunted the Book of Skelos, as you know. With limited   
success... 

Ah... I knew you would ask for it eventually. Do you think me foolish,   
woman? Do you truly believe that I would reveal to you the location of   
N'Garai Talisman? Ah... Old race. But so foolish. So easily enslaved, when   
one has the tools. Gloating again, Selene? Really, it doesn't become you. 

Yes, I was defeated by that... barbarian. Sonja, yes. Youth... it has a   
magic all of it's own. We are old, Selene. Indeed? I envy you than. I do   
feel old. Ancient. I long for the rest. I suppose... I will give you a   
hint. 

It amuses me to think that you will spend ages trying to find it. Look for   
it in the land of the first pharaohs. Yes, I knew you'd glean _that _ truth   
easily. We'll see how long it will take you to locate the Talisman. And now   
if you will pardon me, I'm late for my evening torment. 

Please release me from the Binding, before Abbadon becomes unduly...   
incensed. 

Good bye, Selene. And you, pup."   


The road back is hardly less strenuous or terrifying, but it is the road   
_back _. It seems easier. Or mayhaps the youth is too weary to care. Even   
his reply as to what his impression was of the man he met, hardly does   
credit to his full feeling. The lady however doesn't seem to mind his   
terseness.   


Well? Yes... impressive. He was a worthy enemy. Once. Too frail of mind and   
spirit now. Allowing himself to grow old. To the Abyss with him. The world   
smells fresher without the old madman. What? Ah... yes, indeed. That is a   
dilemma. What do I intend to do with you... Indeed. I could leave you to the   
Pits... That was my original intention, after all. It never hurts to build   
up a little good will with the Netherworld. 

I could be merciful and slay you quickly...or even let you go. Hmm... it   
doesn't become lady to be wasteful. Yes. I think that would be the best...   
Let us see if I remember the weave correctly. 

I do. Well. It's been some time since I last had a familiar. Do try not to   
disappoint me. I've always held a rather high opinion of cats. I would be   
most upset if I was forced to revise it on your account.   
Good night and welcome to your new life, boy." 

The room plunges into sudden darkness as the woman extinguishes the candles   
upon her departure. Surprisingly enough the boy's eyes adapt quickly. With   
strange feeling of lightness and grace he moves. Discovering the absence of   
bonds he makes an uncertain step toward the door, only to catch his   
reflection in the mirror. 

If any of the servants were foolish enough to brave the grounds of the   
spacious apartment in which the Black Queen made her residence, without her   
permission on that day they would perhaps be less surprised then an average   
visitor. But even experienced domestics of the Hellfire Club would perhaps   
find it unsettling to encounter a speaking black cat. Even if his analysis   
of the situation _was _ rather accurate. 

"Oh. Shit."   
  



End file.
